


Positive Feedback

by nihilBliss



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alien Sex, Anal Fingering, Bottom James T. Kirk, Bottom Jim, Cock Worship, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Coming In Pants, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Stranded, Top Spock, Vulcan Biology, Vulcan Bond, Vulcan Mind Melds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 10:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilBliss/pseuds/nihilBliss
Summary: “Mr. Spock, how long until the ionic squall passes and communications with the Enterprise come back online?" Jim asked. "How long are we stuck here?"Spock tapped a sensor panel a few times, processing a deluge of atmospheric data."Four hours at minimum, Captain," he said, "though if prevailing solar winds shift unfavorably, it could be as long as six before the squall diminishes."And then they fucked.





	Positive Feedback

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThereBeWhalesHere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereBeWhalesHere/gifts).



“We did an inventory audit on all of our landing craft last week,” Jim cursed. “How is it possible that we’re stuck down here with no spare crystal fuse?”

“I’ll make a note to find the crew member responsible, Captain,” Spock answered. He stood impassive as ever as his Captain, his best friend, the love of his life, James Tiberius Kirk, tore apart the cabin of the shuttlecraft, looking for a part that they both knew he wasn’t going to find. Finally, Jim sank to his knees and sighed.

“Mr. Spock, how long until the ionic squall passes and communications with the Enterprise come back online?" Jim asked. "How long are we stuck here?"

Spock tapped a sensor panel a few times, processing a deluge of atmospheric data.

"Four hours at minimum, Captain," he said, "though if prevailing solar winds shift unfavorably, it could be as long as six before the squall diminishes."

"That's frustrating, but at least we're in no real danger," Jim said. "Well worth it to add a new species of indigenous flora to our records."

"Yes, Captain," Spock said. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"As far as I'm concerned, we're conditionally off-duty until the squall mellows. Go ahead."

"Thank you, Jim," Spock said. He relaxed imperceptibly - well, imperceptibly to anyone not named Jim Kirk. “Given that we have a substantial amount of time on our hands, we have a good opportunity to take some much-needed R&R. You in particular have been avoiding your scheduled recreation breaks lately.”

“Well, the captain has many duties,” Jim said. For the formality of his words, Spock’s tone had warmed. “I can’t help it sometimes.”

“Professionally, I’ve noticed that it has had a minor impact on your reaction time, though your judgement remains generally sound,” Spock said. “But more importantly, Jim, as your friend, it worries me. You worry me. I love you, and I do not want you to suffer.”

Jim shook his head slowly, considering it. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, Spock had a point. He hadn’t been taking the best care of himself lately. He nodded.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’ve neglected myself. And that’s unfair to you as my first officer and as my beloved.”

Jim sighed, stood, stretched his back like a cat in a sunbeam.

“Alright, then let’s make the most of this time,” Jim said. And mischief crept into his mind, as it so often did when he and Spock were alone together. He fell back to his knees, hand to his forehead. “My god, Spock! You’re more right than I thought! I find myself overcome with lethargy and exhaustion!”

Spock twitched the corner of his lips as he smiled, the tiny echo of a snorting laugh he swallowed and held deep within himself. He walked over, and Jim wrapped his arms around Spock’s waist.

“Spock! You’ve got to help me! I don’t know what to do I…” He leaned his head against Spock’s groin, half-limp.

“You need a protein infusion, don’t you, Jim,” Spock said, flatly amused.

“It’s the only way,” Jim said. “Will you save me, Spock?”

Spock raised an eyebrow, a gesture understood to stand in for a melodramatic eye roll. They’d played this game before. It was one of Jim’s favorites, and Spock could only pretend he didn’t enjoy it too. He unfastened his pants and let Jim do the rest.

Jim slid Spock’s pants down around his ankles and rubbed his face against the yet-flaccid bulge in Spock’s underwear. He loved the feel of his lover’s member against his face as it grew stiff, yes, but he loved the way Spock smelled, too. It was unique, somewhere between human and Vulcan, unlike anything else he’d encountered. For Jim, it had long since become a warm, comforting stimulus, a sure port in any storm. That might have had something to do with Spock’s mind-melding, too, but the details hardly mattered now. It said “you are safe, and we will overcome, because we are together.” 

As Jim’s own member grew stiff, he felt sparks of Spock’s arousal in the back of his mind. He slid Spock’s underwear down and planted a kiss on each of the two glans ridges on his lover’s half-erect penis. Then, he slipped the cock into his mouth and began to suckle, gently, letting it grow and fill his mouth.

Spock wasn’t a particularly vocal lover - Jim made enough noise for the both of them, he once said - but Jim knew to listen for the way Spock’s breath caught in his chest. He ran his tongue between the top and bottom ridges of Spock’s cock and relished that little mid-breath flinch. For all the loud groans and resonant chirps of his past lovers, this sound, this small noise he couldn’t hear from five feet away, turned him on more.

“Oh, Jim,” Spock whispered. The words warmed Jim to his core. He wrapped his hand around Spock’s shaft as he bobbed, and Spock wove his fingers through Jim’s hair. As much as the captain’s chair suited him, being on his knees felt just as right and twice as natural. As did many other positions he took with Spock. His mind wandered through a few favorites, projecting them into his lover's mind. And a few others popped into his mind in return. Good ones.

"How could I forget what we did on Skaia-4?" Jim said, stroking the whole of Spock's length. "That was a wild night."

"It is a memory I will forever cherish," Spock said, uneven.

"Oscar Wilde spoke wise words when he said that love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling," Jim said. He slipped Spock's member back into his mouth and bobbed with fervor, hand and tongue matching his head's pace. 

Spock poured energy into their bond, sending Jim the wordless impression of a question: "where should I come?" Jim focused on memories of the taste of Spock's cum, the viscosity of it in his mouth, the sense of pleasure and rightness when he swallowed it. He reveled in the pleasure of rolling it about with his tongue before he drank it down and on how much he loved to feel how Spock pulsed against his lips. Remembered sensations flowed from Jim, and Spock’s breathing grew ragged as they resonated in his senses.

Then Jim felt a warmth and wetness around his own member. Impulses from nerves he didn’t have set off cascades of good-boy chemicals in his mind. He whined and moaned with every bob, feeling his own lips around his cock. 

Spock was feeding his sensations into Jim’s mind. And Jim couldn’t get enough. 

Wet sucking sounds echoed in the shuttlecraft as Jim bobbed faster. He reached a hand up, pointing two fingers at Spock’s mouth. Spock slipped them between his lips, running his tongue across the familiar digits. Every callous, every scar, every wrinkle in the knuckles, he knew well. He sighed when Jim took them back.

Jim slipped his moistened fingers down the back of his slacks and slid one, then two into his ass, stretching himself indelicately and flicking at his prostate. If one could play the feedback game, so could two; he projected his sensations into Spock’s mind. Spock bit back a low groan as the prostate he didn’t have shot lightning strikes through the length of cock.

Then, the transmitted sensations on Jim’s cock started to bleed through into what Spock actually felt, which necessarily went into Jim’s mind. Feedback does what it will do, and one set of lips felt like two, then four, then eight, then more and more. Jim squealed as more and more fingers rubbed more and more prostates and more and more cocks penetrated his mouth. He felt himself climax into his pants, and he sucked frantically.

Spock cried out Jim’s name as he too came, pouring jet after jet of cum into Jim’s mouth, feeling it fill his own mouth. Feeling Jim’s orgasm, too, and letting that set every nerve in his body alight with overload. His knees grew weak, and he leaned on Jim as waves of pure sensation crashed against him.

Sweating, shivering, and panting, Spock eased himself to the floor of the shuttlecraft, kneeling, then pulling Jim on top of him as he lay down. Neither could say anything. But neither needed to. The craft felt distant, dreamlike, as they lay in the afterglow. Jim sent the impression of a simple cloth blanket, the one Spock kept in a small duffel for away missions.

Spock grabbed the bag, pulled it over, and tugged the blanket free. Something hard hit the floor of the shuttlecraft. Jim lazily looked for its source, finding a small cylinder of transparent alumina with a small, pink crystal inside. Another sat at the lip of the duffel.

“Spock,” Jim managed, barely a whisper.

“Yes, Jim?”

“Are those crystal fuses?”

“Yes, Jim.”

“The spare from the ship?”

“And another.”

“A redundant spare?”

“A logical contingency.”

“That’s nice,” Jim said, spreading the blanket out over them both and making himself comfortable in the crook of Spock’s arm.

 


End file.
